Sweet Tooth
by December Writing Dragon
Summary: America is excited to get home and enjoy his order of imported chocolates. Upon arrival, he discovers Russia has beaten him to it. The two negotiate a means of compensation that works for them both. RusAme, AmeRus.


**Sweet Tooth**

Alfred jones was in a hurry to get home. It wasn't every day decadent sweets from lands unknown (what he called anywhere outside of America) was shipped to his house. A whole box of delicious candies and chocolates for him to pretend to eat in moderation but would likely gorge on this afternoon.

He was a whirlwind of motion as he flung open the front door, halfway to the kitchen before catching himself and hurrying outside, checking for his box. A disappointed frown accompanied the realization that his package was absent from mailbox and front steps alike. Returning back inside, preparing to camp out on the driveway if need be, he consulted his phone to check the shipping information. It was marked as delivered. This moment of perplexity was interrupted by the sight of his boyfriend's jacket over the couch. "Yo, Ivan?" he called, padding through the foyer.

"Here, Fedya," Ivan's voice drifted to his ears, the owner hidden by the couch he was laying on.

"Hey, babe, have you seen the- oh."

Ivan's long body rested sprawled on the couch, one hand tucked between his head and the cushion, the other sampling none other than Alfred's foreign sweets.

"Evie!" Alfred cried, counting the empty little spaces where there used to be _food_. Objectively there were not many missing, but Alfred's stomach and sweet tooth were not capable of objectivity.

"Want one?" he asked, his round face alight with a teasing smile as he held one out. Alfred glared even as he snatched it up and ate. A passionate sigh vibrated straight from his chest out his throat, his tongue experiencing true ecstasy. Alfred did not realize he'd closed his eyes in sweet appreciation until they fluttered open, colors seeming more vibrant. When he looked down, it was to see Ivan staring up at him with mingled surprise, bewilderment, and…something else. Wordlessly, the Russian picked up another sweet and placed it between his teeth before tugging Alfred down by the collar. Alfred moved without protest, movements seamless as his lips connected with Ivan's, feeling and tasting the decadent chocolate held there. Their tongues, lips, and teeth moved in a velvety dance, Alfred pulling away with a delighted sigh, swallowing the melted chocolate.

His eyes met Ivan's, something igniting between them. Without needing any further cues, Alfred leaned down and began unbuttoning Ivan's shirt, and felt Ivan's hands begin to peel away his own clothes. In less than a minute, they were almost completely bare and relocated upstairs onto the spacious king-sized bed (the only one long enough to accommodate Ivan's height). Alfred delighted in the rumble of laughter he received as he kissed up chocolate from Ivan's chest, smiling against the warmed pale skin. His job done, Alfred now laid down, smirking devilishly as he picked up another piece and let his hand slowly wander down. Ivan's strong hand closed around his wrist, its owner giving him a very leveling look.

"Those are not going anywhere south of your navel, Alfred," he said dryly. Alfred burst out laughing, allowing Ivan to tug his hand away. His mirth broke off as Ivan leaned back and guided the chocolate to instead rest on his neck, a strong contrast existing between the unassuming sweet and his old collar of scars. Alfred pulled himself to lean over Ivan, lips pressing reverentially against Ivan's throat, able to feel the rumbling moan it elicited from the man below him. Encouraged, he created a trail of the foreign treats across his neck and collarbone, tracing it out with his mouth. Eyes hooded, he felt rather than saw Ivan's arms snake up and around him, hands shaking as they pawed and scratched at his back.

It was a sign of just how warm Alfred was- how warm the air around them had become- that the chocolate left melted smears on his fingertips when he plucked them up and placed them on Ivan's skin. He couldn't complain, and Ivan certainly wasn't when it just meant Alfred had to take longer kisses to clean his pale heated flesh, eventually giving long, languid licks. The delighted shudders and rippling of muscle beneath Alfred's mouth was actually as sweet of his misused chocolates. Idly, however, he distantly remembered wanting to be mad at Ivan for the transgression.

"See what you do? I just wanted to come home and eat imported sweets."

Something almost predatory flashed in Ivan's eyes as his fingers tangled in Alfred's hair. Tugged- _hard_. Eyes dancing with mischievous laughter, he said with a purr, "I am imported!"

THE END

Based on the line prompt: "Hey, have you seen the…? Oh."


End file.
